run away again

"I will not give up the flowers in my heart..."

I was only sixteen

as I sat across from my therapist 

nervous smirk 

averted gaze

and listened as she told me 

that my dark humor 

my laughter 

my comedic cynicism 

they were all

just defense mechanisms 

a pseudo-friendly wall

between my true self

my emotions 

and the rest of this cold world 

there was a part of me, though 

that already knew 

the dark humor 

was load-bearing 

and the laughter 

hid the deepest pain 

she could ever imagine 

"...just because the world is a hard place."

but when an alternate reality 

is superimposed 

over your own reality 

day after day 

like a poorly drawn rotoscope 

and each version of the truth 

is fighting to win the award

for most painful 

you learn to look through it 

pretend it’s not there 

like the poltergeist in your room 

only you can see

and you learn 

very quickly

where 

your breaking point is

"The world is only a hard place..."

my defense mechanisms

only protected me 

until they didn’t 

and when they didn’t 

I no longer had any defense 

against myself 

and that 

felt like the cruelest 

of betrayals

but here’s the thing 

about me. 

as irrational as it seems 

as irrational as it is - 

I just can’t seem to convince myself 

to let go of the flowers 

inside my heart. 

“…because  it needs more  flower-hearted  people.” - Nikita Gill